So I was going on dates with him, and enjoying myself, but I held off on anything physical. It was always going to be a massive deal to be intimate with a man who wasn’t Luke—and Quin more than most. He was acting smitten but he was really quite judgy about appearances. There was a good chance he’d conclude that my forty-something body was too slack or too cellulite-y. Too something, anyway.

‘Have I been friend-zoned?’ he demanded around the five-week mark. ‘Is there any point being patient?’

‘So you don’t want to hang out if there’s no chance of…?’

‘Nope.’ He was quite clear about it.

‘I’m…’ I tried to find the right word. Terrified, that was it.

It was nearly twenty years since I’d slept with anyone other than Luke. I had fancied Luke so very much, I only needed to smell him for my body to light up. But our sex life had been straightforward stuff. It had worked for both of us—but it left me at a disadvantage now.

Claire had asked me, ‘What precisely are you afraid of with Quin?’

‘That he’ll be too “technical”. That he’ll be barking instructions, like, “C’mon, Rachel, do the three-legged dog!” Or, “Side-straddle me!” As if we’re acrobats putting on a show. I’ve been out of the game too long and, from what I hear, it’s changed. I need tenderness, I need emotional connection as well as the physical side. And I want to take it slow.’

‘Well, tell him.’

What other choice did I have? ‘Okay.’

So I laid out my specific concerns, which he received so calmly that I told Claire, ‘It really would be no hardship to sleep with him.’

‘ “It really would be no hardship”?’ she repeated. Then, molto-sarcastically, ‘I’m off to buy a hat for the big day! You’ve idealized Luke; you’re like an old woman with a shrine. It’s time you moved on. You’d swear you and Luke were perfect.’

‘We were.’

‘If you were, you’d still be together. Off you go—enjoy sleeping with Quin.’

And I actually did! Facts were facts—without the disinhibiting effects of half a bottle of wine, I was shy. However, our first time, it was…‘Actually…sort of…fabulous,’ I told Claire. ‘He’s interested in what I like, but not in a feathery-strokery way. And he kept checking I was okay.’

‘This sounds wonderful. Any acrobatics?’

‘…Aaaaahhhh, nothing too complicated. But he did know the right…buttons to press. He, ah…’ I cleared my throat. ‘Knew his stuff. But not enough to worry me.’

‘Any Costello flashbacks?’

‘…No.’ It was nothing like being with Luke when, long before the end, we’d fallen into tried and tested routines. With Quin, I felt we were embarking on an adventure with countless thrilling possibilities.